Triple Threat
by MizJoely
Summary: Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper have been targeted by Section 31, and turn to Khan to help them escape, offering to help him in turn find and retrieve his cryofrozen crew. However, the three of them have more than just mutual assistance in mind!
1. Aiding and Abetting

_A/N: Once upon a time the very patient kendrapendragon gave me a prompt for some khanlockolly smutty goodness. This first part doesn't have that requirement...but the second part most definitely will! I hope this is what you were looking for, and sorry it took so long! Oh, definite M on this one, with M/M/F smut._

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He entered his flat, stripping off the black gloves that covered his hands, then froze, listening to the darkness the surrounded him. The lights hadn't come on, but he preferred to give the command himself rather than let the computers that seemed to run everything in this damned century take that chore upon themselves.

Someone was in his flat. Two someones, to be exact. There was no point in not letting them know he was aware of their presence; if they intended harm they would know exactly where he was since he hadn't moved away from the door. And if they did, indeed, intend him harm, then they'd already lost the element of surprise. "Is there something I can help you with?" he called out in a conversational tone. "I so rarely receive visitors, so I presume this isn't merely a social call."

He deliberately removed his coat, hanging it on the brushed nickel hook by the door, then crossed the room, still keeping the lights off. He knew this entire flat like the back of his hand; better than that, his night vision was sharper than that of so-called 'normal' humans, as well as his other senses. Unless they chose to attack him from a distance and were wearing night-vision goggles of some sort, he retained the advantage in the darkness.

Instead of an attack of some sort, the light nearest his sofa was flicked on, revealing the two someones – a rather attractive young woman in Starfleet medical blues, and a man in nondescript civilian clothing who, aside from the head of dark curls and fidgety hands, could have been his own twin. "A clone or surgical enhancement?" he asked as he stepped down into the seating area, taking a seat opposite the other two.

"Genetic descendent, here's the DNA analysis for whenever you want to review it," was the terse reply as the man flipped a data disk at Khan. He caught it automatically, far more interested in what these visitors had to say than what might be on the disk; data could be manufactured, he knew that better than anyone. "Sherlock Holmes. And this is my wife, Molly Hooper-Holmes."

Khan studied them both, eyes flicking over their forms as made rapid assessments based on the evidence presented before him. "Married less than five years, no children, you live here in London and although Dr. Hooper-Holmes – pathologist, if I'm not mistaken? – is wearing a Starfleet uniform indicating she works on a starship rather than here on Earth, that's a new assignment, and one she's not very happy about."

Dr. Hooper-Holmes – Molly – gaped at Khan, then over at her husband. "He sounds just like you!" she exclaimed, and Khan smirked, knowing it wasn't just his voice that she was talking about. Good to know that his descendent had gained something besides just his good looks from his Augmented genes.

"Shall I deduce you as well, Mr. Holmes, or would you care to waive the formalities and simply get to the point of this little visit? Assuming," he added with a sardonic smile, "that it wasn't for a family reunion."

"Actually we're both descended from your particular genome," Sherlock corrected him, pulling Molly closer and gliding his fingers up and down her arm in a possessive manner. "Too far distant for genetics to come into play should we ever decide to have children, of course, but nevertheless we are both flesh of your flesh, blood of your blood." His lips lifted in a sardonic manner, as if he could see Khan's carefully controlled reactions, his surprise at both the revelation and Sherlock's use of an archaic quote from a long-abandoned religious tome. "But no, a reunion wasn't quite the reason for our visit. Khan," he added deliberately, tilting his chin in challenging manner.

"And that reason is…?" Khan asked, tilting his head and continuing to hold the other man's gaze – identical to his own even to the shape and heterochromatic coloration of the eyes.

"Section 31 – specifically, Admiral Marcus – intends to have us eliminated." It wasn't Sherlock who responded, but Molly, and Khan flicked his gaze over her assessingly.

"And how exactly did you acquire this information?" Khan wasn't surprised by what she'd told him – especially considering how closely Sherlock resembled him – but he was interested in learning how the two of them had discovered it.

Molly shrugged. "One of our fellow agents, Tom Whitmore, fancied me. He knew about my 'special talents' and wanted to impress me enough to let him shag me."

Khan's eyebrow raised; another archaic expression, this one far more earthy than the one Sherlock had used. "Special talents?" he repeated with a smirk. To let her know that he understood what she meant but wanted to hear her spell it out more clearly.

"I'm damned good in bed," Molly replied frankly, with no hesitation, no blushing or stammering or ridiculous shows of girlish embarrassment. No, of course not, why should she react in such a manner? The women of his own time had been far more sexually liberated than their ancestors, so it stood to reason that a product of this century would even less inclined to be coy about sex. Not that he'd taken the time to find out, consumed as he'd been by doing Marcus' bidding and waiting – futilely, as he'd recently discovered – for his crew to be awoken and returned to him.

"It's how we met, actually," Sherlock put in, further raising Khan's interest in his two descendants. "She was my contact at a sex club on a case we were both assisting the Met in solving. Two days after she'd helped me bring down the illegal slaving ring, I went to the St. Bart's morgue to examine a body, only to find that 'Madcap Molly' was also the Dr. M. Hooper I was to meet up with." The two of them shared a fond smile before returning their attention to Khan. Whose opinion of – and quite frankly, fascination with – the pair of them only continued to rise.

Molly took up the narrative. "He was a bit shocked that I was actually elbows deep in a corpse, lecturing to a group of green-faced medical students about the value of the hands-on experience in autopsying; not shocked that I was doing it, mind you, but shocked that anyone else shared his opinions on the subject. Virtual autopsies are all well and good, but there's nothing like actually holding a corpse's heart in your hand to help you get a real understanding of how the body works."

As they shared another fond smile, Khan decided that once these two had helped him as they said they could – and as he well believed they could – that the three of them would get to know one another much, much better.

He especially looked forward to a demonstration of Molly's 'special skills' – and to exploring the body of the man who bore such a striking resemblance to himself.

Two weeks later, when the three of them were on board the hijacked Starfleet vessel _Vengeance_ , having purloined the seventy-two augments that made up the remaining members of his former crew from beneath Marcus' nose, he made certain to grant his own wish.


	2. Criminal Activities

_A/N: Last chapter, sooo Rated M. M/M/F, anal, oral, you name it. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!_

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Molly held up her glass as Khan opened the bottle of champagne they'd brought along to celebrate their victory over Section 31. She wasn't really thrilled at the idea of living the rest of her life on the run from Starfleet and turning her back on the Federation, but Admiral Marcus and the Section had forced their hands. Only Tom's infatuation for her had saved their lives; even Sherlock had been entirely unaware of the noose that had been subtly closing around their necks.

The discovery of 'John Harrison' and his actual identity had been a godsend, as far as she was concerned. And the fact that she now found herself with her husband and his nearly identical antecedent seated on either side of her while the three of them toasted to their successful heist – and equally successful exposure of Section 31 and Marcus' skullduggery in the process – was even more intoxicating than the alcohol they were imbibing.

She wasn't stupid, even if she wasn't as brilliant as her husband, or an Augmented genius like Khan. No, she wasn't stupid; she saw the looks Khan had been giving both her and Sherlock…and she could tell her husband was just as intrigued by his look-alike as she was. She'd participated in threesomes before, but the idea of taking both Khan and Sherlock to bed – and watching them with one another – nearly melted her into a puddle of lust.

The room they were currently occupying – a sort of officer's lounge meant for quiet relaxation and filled with low, comfortable, overstuffed chairs and sofas, softly lit and with an enormous observation window in one bulkhead – was ideally suited for the kind of activities she now had in mind.

With that thought, she took another sip of champagne then deliberately set the glass down on the low table before them. She leaned back, glancing first at Sherlock and then at Khan, before shoving the table away from the sofa they occupied. She'd already discarded her boots, as had the other two; all three were dressed in loose, comfortable clothing that was neither revealing nor what anyone might consider glamorous, but it had one huge advantage over anything flashier: it was all ridiculously easy to remove. As she proved by grasping the hem of her tunic in both hands before pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor behind them. "Well, boys," she purred as she lounged back, draping her arms over the back of the sofa so that her fingers grazed both men's shoulders, "what's next on the celebration agenda?"

Sherlock wasted no time in imitating her, yanking his shirt off and tossing over the back of the low sofa to join hers. He even did her one better by slithering out of his trousers and pants before pulling her close for a scorching kiss. When they came up for air, Molly saw that Khan had clearly taken their actions as the invitation they were meant to be; he, too was completely naked, and as soon as Sherlock released her he brought her close and kissed her as well.

Mmm, her two boys were more alike than she'd dared to dream; both were excellent kissers who knew to draw her lower lip between their teeth and exactly how much tongue to use. She felt Sherlock's hands tugging at her trousers and lifted her hips to allow him to pull them off her, then sighed with pleasure as Khan moved his lips from her mouth to her throat, moving down, ever down until his mouth landed between her thighs, his sucking kisses bringing her quickly toward the brink of orgasm. It certainly didn't hurt that her husband was busy nibbling and licking at her breasts at the same time, one hand reaching around to tweak her nipple, the other – where was it? Oh, on Khan's head, urging the other man to greater enthusiasm as he worked her pussy.

She gave out a throaty moan as she came, leaning her head on the back of the sofa and running her fingers through her husband's dark curls. She felt Khan moving, but her eyes were shut in the languid aftermath of what she was confident was only the first of many orgasms she would experience this evening. The sounds she heard next were impossible to resist; she opened her eyes to find Khan and Sherlock leaning across her body, mouths crushed together, lips moving, hands on the backs of one another's heads, fingers grasping as they wrestled for dominance.

Mmm, lovely to watch, but she was in no mood for observing from the sidelines tonight; oh, no, her lovely boys could have loads of fun on their own some other time. With a determined glint in her eyes, she laid her hands atop theirs and tugged at their fingers until they broke the kiss and turned to look at her. She didn't need to say anything, just caught their eyes and curved her lips in a wicked smile. Khan lunged forward before Sherlock could, his Augmented reflexes faster than even their own, and captured her lips in a demanding kiss. She tasted herself and moaned, loving every second of it.

Sherlock, not to be outdone (even if he'd been out maneuvered) slipped down to kneel on the floor. Khan was had one knee on the edge of the sofa, the other leg levered back to support himself, one arm braced on the back of the sofa and the other around her shoulder, leaving plenty of room for Sherlock to comfortably reach the two of them. She felt his long, clever fingers worm their way into her pussy and widened her legs to give him a better angle, then moaned as she heard him making some deliberately obnoxious slurping noises as he took Khan's dick into his mouth and began sucking.

The other man swore a bit against her lips, biting down and kissing her with even more fervency than he already had been. Molly felt him tugging on her hair and reached up to do the same to his dark, glossy locks, so different from her husband's unruly curls. She'd already noted that Khan was completely devoid of body hair from his torso to his thighs, which she knew was a particular turn-on for Sherlock; he did so like his partners clean-shaven, male and female. She kept herself meticulously waxed and wondered if Khan had done so knowing what the two of them had in mind for this evening's festivities. Then he did something particularly clever with his tongue at the same time Sherlock slipped one slick finger into her smaller hole, and she stopped thinking entirely in favor of simply _feeling_.

 **oOo**

Sherlock felt Molly's body relaxing as he eased one finger into her ass, the others busy finding a very particular spot deep inside her cunt. He grinned internally, his mouth far too busy sucking Khan's dick to allow for any sort of external expression of his current satisfaction. Oh, he'd been looking forward to this moment ever since he and his wife had first discovered Khan's existence. And now here they were, the three of them celebrating a victory over the group that had betrayed them all – and very much enjoying one another as they did so.

He allowed a fleeting moment of regret to wash over him at leaving London behind forever, but the adventures that no doubt awaited them would more than make up for the loss. He doubt being part of Khan's crew would ever become boring; certainly not if he and Molly were to continue on as his lovers! Khan was cursing softly as Sherlock drew him deeper into his throat, well able to focus on his varied (and highly enjoyable) tasks. Molly was whimpering softly against Khan's lips and bucking against his own fingers, clear signs that she was close to another orgasm. That, however, wasn't part of the current plan; Sherlock slowed his fingers' movements and heard her groan a bit in protest.

Khan groaned as well as Sherlock removed his mouth from his cock. He slithered upward, imposing himself between his two lovers long enough to bring Khan's head down for a leisurely kiss while Molly reached around and took both their cocks into her small (but very strong and more than capable) hands. "Molly, love, do you think you can take both of us at once, hmm? Or are you not quite up to that much of a challenge tonight?"

He'd pay for that cheeky comment later, and very much looked forward to any punishment she might deem necessary – she was particularly adept with the riding crop – but for now all she did was release her hold and pinch his ass as she replied, "God, yes, what do you think I've been waiting for?"

Seconds later she was kneeling over Sherlock as he lay back on the sofa, not quite sure how he'd ended up there; he'd been planning on being the one to violate her rear entrance, as it were, but clearly Khan had other plans. As long as Molly had no objections – which clearly she did not, judging by the avaricious way she was levering herself over his own cock – then neither did he.

He rummaged beneath the sofa cushions for the small tube of lubricant she'd stashed away, deftly tossing it to Khan and watching hungrily as the other man popped it open and began applying a generous coating to his cock. Khan grabbed Sherlock's hand and squeezed out a dollop before snapping the cap shut again. Sherlock took the hint and reached around to Molly's ass, slipping two fingers inside her while she rocked herself in slow circular motions, riding his cock with the skill and surety he'd come to very much appreciate.

When she was ready she grabbed his wrist, slipping his hand away and leaning forward so that her breasts were pressed against his chest and her ass fully exposed. "Now," she gasped, and Khan knelt behind her, lining his cock up and pressing his head against her entrance. Sherlock braced the two of them, holding Molly securely in his arms, the pair of them barely breathing in anticipation of the pleasure to come.

Khan didn't disappoint; he slid inside her in a series of shallow thrusts, eventually pressing fully inside. Sherlock could feel his thick shaft through the thin layer of flesh separating them; Molly's eyes were glazed and she was sweating and panting as she got used to the fullness of having both men inside her at the same time. When she was ready, she began moving, impaling herself twice over with every thrust, holding tightly to Sherlock's shoulders and sharing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses with him. Then Khan leaned over them as well, pushing his face between theirs to capture kisses from them in turn, as forceful and demanding as always.

Sherlock spared a moment to wonder if he might have any interest in wielding the riding crop over the two of them, but another movement from Molly – and another demanding kiss from Khan – quickly brought his attention back to the moment at hand. Molly was moaning and swiveling her hips, Khan was speeding up his thrusts, and Sherlock decided he would be best served by just lying back and enjoying the ride. Easy enough to do as his brain started to short-circuit from the pleasure he was feeling; knowing he wasn't going to last much longer, he shut his eyes and gasped out garbled expressions of just how much he was enjoying this.

 **oOo**

Khan had been involved in threesomes before, had participated in many orgies during his rise to power and his lamentably brief reign as ruler of one-third of the world, but there was something about his two partners that made him feel as he had the very first time he'd had sex – powerful and vulnerable at the same time. He'd never been unsure of himself, even that first time, but he was willing to concede that opening himself up to someone physically (in the literal sense as well as the emotional, as his first partner had been his dear friend Joachim) had been an exercise in trust as well as lust.

Joachim slept on in his cryotubes, along with his wife Marie (with whom Khan had also enjoyed several sexual encounters until she and Joachim decided to marry and try their hand at sexual fidelity, outdated though that concept was). And now Molly and Sherlock had entered his life, and Khan found himself absurdly grateful for them even as he rutted into Molly's sweet little ass and bent down to give her husband another urgent kiss. Whether this encounter would be a one-off or merely the beginning of a long-term relationship was yet to be decided. However, such musings came to an end when Molly did something with her hips that temporarily short-circuited his brain; then Sherlock stroked a hand down his back and tickled his fingers against Khan's ass and just like that his orgasm was exploding over him, sending racking shudders through his body and tearing a surprised (ecstatic) shout from his throat.

Molly convulsed around him seconds later, her orgasm spurred on by his, and Sherlock was swift to follow, their joined voices a delirious harmony of shared pleasure.

After collapsing together and basking in the immediate aftermath, Khan rose to his feet, carefully pulling out of Molly's well-used (and deliciously pink) bottom. He lifted her easily into his arms, cradling her close and cocking an eyebrow at Sherlock, still sprawled out on the sofa, dark curls in disarray, lips kiss-swollen and looking thoroughly debauched. "Well?" Khan offered challengingly. "By the time we reach my quarters I'll be more than ready for round two. Shall we test how much of my stamina has been passed down, then?"

Judging by the contented hum from Molly's lips and the eager way Sherlock sprang to his feet as he turned and headed for the door, that challenge would be more than well met.

He could hardly wait.


End file.
